


i've got a fire running through the night

by ultraviolence



Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Cock Rings, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Forbidden Romance, Shameless Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraviolence/pseuds/ultraviolence
Summary: “Do you need help with that, professor?”Orson helps Galen carrying a stack of papers to his office after class.Thingshappened. Plot what plot? AU.





	i've got a fire running through the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltandlimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/gifts).



> OK, so the original idea for this ficlet (?) came from a convo I once had with Sally over Discord. It's been a while, but I really wanted to write that, and her birthday provided a perfect excuse to write this. JUST KIDDING. Belated happy birthday, love! Hope you've had an awesome one and ily <3
> 
> Title gratuitously taken from Vancouver Sleep Clinic's song, Empire. Enjoy!

“Do you need help with that, professor?”

The voice brought Galen back into reality and detached him from his train of thought—something that he now only vaguely remembered but was certain would come back later today, probably tonight when he’s in bed while he’s reading another science journal or article—and he quickly snapped out of it. His class was ending, students were chatting eagerly among themselves and gathering their things, the auditorium was emptying out (today he held a special lecture and was thankful for his anti-anxiety pills last night) and one student, in particular, was talking to him, referring to a stack of research papers that he’s going to have to grade.

He felt himself smile a little when he noticed who it was, but pretended to adjust his glasses and looked down on his laptop, shutting it down, although he knows that the other noticed.

“I think help—“ he looked up from his laptop, letting himself smile at the student this time, although a more professional smile instead of a personal one earlier, “—would be much appreciated, Mr Krennic. Thank you,” he added, with a nod.

“You’re welcome, professor,” Krennic said in return, with too much emphasis on Galen’s title. Galen stifled a laugh, comes out as a cough instead. “You know I’m always happy to help.”

“And I’m-“ he stopped midway, as another student was in the range of hearing. She only smiled briefly and nodded in acknowledgement at him, though, and then went away. Galen sighed inaudibly, he was grateful for that. “-I’m always happy to accept your help, Mr Krennic. As you already know by now.”

Then their conversation was cut short by another student who made a beeline to Galen and asked him some questions pertinent to his lecture, and Galen could see that Krennic frowned from the corner of his eye, but he kept his professional air. “Why don’t you gather the papers, Mr Krennic? You can come walk with me after I’m done,” he said, cutting the other student for a bit, and Orson nodded eagerly.

“Yes, professor,” he said, smiling, keeping it just as professional as Galen but with a hint of something more private, more mischievous. 

When the room finally empties enough—and the student who pestered Galen with questions has gone away, at last—Galen gathered the rest of his things and lowered his voice. “Why are you here among undergrads, Orson? I thought you were a level above them,” he teased, lightly, and he didn’t have to beckon to the other man to follow him. This was quite routine to their charade, although Orson joining one of Galen’s classes for undergraduates was something new. “It’s about your dissertation again, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” Orson laughed, only stopped for a little when they were within range of other people. “I’m genuinely interested in your lecture,” he said. “Is that not allowed?”

“No, but you—“ Galen smiled at another student who nodded acknowledgement at him as they passed, going down the stairs since his office was at ground level, “—you must have another reason, Orson. I know you usually resented sitting in a stuffed auditorium with filthy nobody undergrads, especially this late,” Galen added and consulted his watch. It was nearly 5 pm. He could probably clock out in a bit, have dinner with Orson, grade the papers after that. 

“I came for you,” Orson said, in a normal voice now that they nearly reached his office and there’s no one around, brightly and without any reservations. “Now you tell me _that_ is not allowed, Galen.”

“Not really, no,” Galen told him, as he pushed open the door to his office, gesturing at Orson to come in first. “As a matter of fact, you’ve been a _very_ good student, Mr Krennic. I’m impressed with your performance. Although there are some things…that could be improved upon.”

Orson blushed lightly in the midst of his office, and Galen thought that he really liked that look on him. As a matter of fact, he _really_ loved making Orson blush, especially since the other seemed to think that his ability to do that to Galen makes him nigh invincible. Orson opened his mouth to say something, but Galen cuts him off quickly. “Now put those papers over there,” he ordered, gesturing at a corner. “I’ll do them tonight.” he makes his way towards his chair, letting his arm brush Orson’s as he did so.

Orson takes the bait. “Are you going home early, professor, or—“

“How does dinner sounds?” Galen asked, with a smile that he knows that Orson could never ever resist, and the other man stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, smiling boyishly in return as he did so.

“Sounds good to me, prof.”

“Prof _essor,_ Mr Krennic, never prof,” he corrected, as sternly as possible, looking Orson in the eye as he did so. “Don’t bring those youngster slangs into my office,” he said, watching Orson tried to suppress a smile.

“Yes, _professor_ ,” he said in return, with obvious emphasis. “What do you want me to do now?”

Galen looked behind Orson, at the door, and frowned a little. It’s late in terms of office hours, but someone might still come in, most likely a colleague or a beleaguered student…he considered this for a moment. “Do you…think that anyone else would interrupt our session together, Mr Krennic? I heard you have…some questions about your dissertation.”

“Oh, yes,” Krennic nodded, a little too eagerly. “And besides, as you said, professor, I still have some things to improve upon. In the academic spirit of our alumni, you should let me know while it’s still office hours,” he said, glancing at the door. And then bravely locked it, slowly, quietly. Galen tsked after him, but lets him do that. “But office hours is nearly over, isn’t it, professor?”

“That’s okay,” Galen said, beckoning him to come closer. “I can still answer your…questions. And other things besides. Now come here,” he ordered, and Orson smiled, coming closer. Once he was close enough, Galen pulled him to his lap, his lips searching for Orson’s and finding it, and kissed him, a little roughly. He felt Orson kissed him back just as passionately, the heat from his mouth familiar and arousing, all the pent-up frustration that definitely has built up inside of him being let out, and Galen lets him, feeling the younger man bit his bottom lip, and Galen stifled a moan. Technically speaking, a relationship between a professor and a _graduate_ student is not against the rules, and Galen knows—from hearsay rather than firsthand—that it is more common than the campus authority thought, but it is still frowned down upon, and as the youngest professor—and some, if not most say, the most brilliant—ever recruited by the university, who had won not only one but _three_ scientific awards by the time he’s thirty, Galen naturally wanted to protect his reputation. Orson was only five years younger than him,and his academic—and professional—career is just starting, but to Galen, he was even more brilliant than him.

“You know why I saved the papers for tonight after our dinner?” Galen says, feeling Orson’s lips tease his jaw, and his hands carefully removed his glasses. It was really for the effect and fashion than anything substantial—Galen was guilty as charged—so it was of no consequence. Orson leaned forward again for another kiss on the lips, and Galen lets him, before he pulled him even closer by the arm, trailing kisses from his cheek to his ear, biting it a little and hearing him moan. “I want to do _you_ , now.”

It was so cliched that Orson had to laugh, but Galen cuts it short by sliding his hand under his shirt and kissed his neck, trailing another trail of kisses, until he reached the nape, and sucked in deep enough to leave a mark. “ _Galen_ ,” Orson breathed, letting out a small whine of surprise. “No cliched lines. I thought I’ve told you that.”

“You said them often enough,” he said, whispering against his skin, loving every inch of him. “But fair enough. I wanted to…teach you some things. So that you’d be a better person. I did mention that some _things_ could be improved upon,” Galen said, smiling, pushing Orson away so he could look at him. There dawned a look of understanding on Orson’s face, and Galen liked it. Galen enjoyed every second of it. “Now take off your clothes, Mr Krennic,” he ordered him, tilting his chin up and forcing him to meet his gaze. “We don’t have much time.”

Orson seemed as if he was about to contradict Galen, but whatever it was, he kept quiet, and nodded instead, when Galen released his chin. “Yes, professor,” he simply said, biting his bottom lip, and Galen could feel himself getting stiff already.

* * *

“Do you want me to do anything else?”

Orson whispered, his hands carefully smoothing the front of Galen’s button up. It was a real pleasure—in the broadest sense of the word—to have him in his lap, completely naked, and he’d been pleasuring Galen with his mouth. He left more than a couple of hickeys, and Galen knows they’re going to be trouble later on, but at least for now he enjoyed it. Orson himself was wearing a cock ring, his own idea, keeping it in a hidden drawer in Galen’s office, and Galen thought that he makes quite a sight, an _excellent_ sight, naked in his lap with his cock restrained like a good boy. His clothes were a messy pile on the floor.

“Well, you’ve been a very _good_ and very _studious_ student,” Galen told him, carefully emphasising the word, and he let Orson kissed him and purred his pleasure at the praise. Galen knows it makes him hard, it’s not to tell that Orson Krennic enjoyed being praised as much as he enjoyed being punished every now and then. “I’d reckon you deserved some…reward by now,” he said, looking the boy in the eye, a finger tracing Orson’s erect cock. He watched as Orson’s eyes gleamed at the word ‘reward’, and he doesn’t even try stifling his moan as Galen caressed his hard-on, precome already forming on the head, steadying himself on the chair and arching his back a little at the pleasure—but also the pain—as he both strained against the ring and leaned in to Galen’s touch, beads of sweat already forming on his temple. Galen gave it a light squeeze, watching as his eyes go wide and he moaned helplessly, and he wrapped his arms around the other man to steady him. 

“What do you want, Orson?” Galen asked him, almost lazily stroking Orson’s cock. 

Orson bit his lip, again, this time successful in stifling a groan, and looked at him almost shyly, before avoiding his gaze. “I’d like you to bend me over your table and fuck me.”

“‘I’d like you to bend me over your table and fuck me, _professor_ ’,” Galen corrected, stopping stroking Orson’s cock to give him some breathing space. Orson seemed to appreciate it, as he breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“I’d like you to bend me over your table and fuck me, professor,” he repeated, obediently, and, when Galen raised an eyebrow, quickly added: “ _Please_.”

Galen smiled, moving his hand to caress Orson’s thigh and then his bare ass. “I think I’d like that. Dinner would taste even better afterwards.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments & suggestions welcome <3


End file.
